


the things we can no longer hide

by katsumi



Series: semantics [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Living Together, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9386090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsumi/pseuds/katsumi
Summary: “You know how everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?”“Hm?” he mumbles, still on the cusp of sleep.“I was thinking...should we?”Cassian’s eyes shoot open.Or: They can only dance around this for so long.





	

Cassian blinks awake to hazy gray light through the window slat and Jyn, fast asleep on his chest.

 

She’s curled around him, leg looped with his, arm stretched across his torso; he can feel the soft rise and fall of her chest against his side. She’s been living in his quarters for weeks now, sleeping in his bed for weeks more, and still the sight of her beside him every morning is a small miracle.

 

“Jyn,” he whispers, brushing his hand against her back. They’re not expected anywhere for a few hours—and oh, how Cassian wishes they could spend that time like this, tangled up in bed—but Jyn likes the morning, the quiet she can use to steel herself for the day ahead.

 

“Mm,” Jyn murmurs, her hand gripping the fabric of his shirt as she slides into wakefulness.

 

“It’s morning,” Cassian notes.

 

“Mm,” Jyn says again.

 

They lie there in silence for a while, and Cassian—warm and relaxed—lets his eyes slide closed, listening to the comforting beat of Jyn’s heart against his side.

 

“Cassian?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

She’s quiet for a long moment, so long that Cassian thinks she might have drifted off again.

 

“You know how everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?”

 

“Hm?” he mumbles, still on the cusp of sleep.

 

“I was thinking...should we?”

 

Cassian’s eyes shoot open.

 

“Wh-what?”

 

Her hand travels up his side, to his shoulder, to his neck, and Cassian whites out for just a second.

 

“Jyn—” he starts, wriggling back to get a better look at her. Cheek still pressed against his chest, her eyes are tilted up to look at him: cool, unreadable. Her thumb strokes a soft line against his pulse point.

 

“Are you serious?” he manages.

 

She gives a little shrug. “Everyone already thinks we are, right?” And then she’s propping herself up on her elbow and leaning down to kiss him.

 

For a moment, he’s completely lost save for her lips soft and warm against his. He opens his mouth to deepen it, cranes his neck up to meet her and it feels like the first time he ever piloted a U-Wing: like he’s weightless, unmoored.

 

And then her words sink in—everyone already thinks we are—and he lurches back.

 

“No,” he gasps, breathless and aching. “Wait, stop.”

 

That’s not the right reason, he thinks, frantic. Because they _think we already are_ isn’t the same thing as _I want to_ , not even close.

 

He opens his mouth to say as much, but the damage is done. Hurt flashes across Jyn’s face, sharp and raw. Then her eyes hollow, her jaw locks, and she pushes herself off him.

 

“Wait—”

 

She’s on her feet already, scrambling for her coat. She zips it over her sleep clothes, shoving her boots on her feet before Cassian can collect himself enough to sit up, to follow her.

 

“Jyn, that’s not what I—”

 

But she’s already gone.

 

* * *

 

He can’t find her. All morning he winds through the base, retracing his steps and scaring several sergeants who happen to walk in his path and he _can’t find her_.

 

Baze stops him on his fifth prowl through the halls, pulls him to the side and lays his hands on Cassian’s shoulders.

 

“If she wants to be alone,” Baze says, “you should let her.”

 

And of course, much as Cassian hates to admit it, Baze is right. Cassian stumbles through the rest of his day in a fog, trying to ease that clenching sensation at the pit of his stomach. If she’ll just talk to him, if he can just explain…

 

And then, he sees her name on the to-fly list—multi-day cargo mission to Kashyyyk—and his whole world darkens.

 

He’s nearly out of breath by the time he makes it to the air hangar, but there she is: perched on the flank of a U-Wing, wrench in hand, shouting instructions down at Bodhi.

 

“JYN!”

 

She visibly flinches. Bodhi full on jumps.

 

Jyn turns her head to glare down at him—that old, feral glare from back before he really knew her, back when he meant nothing to her but a path to her father. It physically hurts to see.

 

He comes to a stop at the bottom of the ship’s ramp, gripping the guardrails.

 

“Yes, Captain?” asks Jyn, all acid. Bodhi is frozen in terror.

 

“We need to talk, Jyn.”

 

She just rolls her eyes.

 

“Jyn!”

 

“I can hear you,” she snaps.

 

“Uh,” says Bodhi, “should I get the ladder?”

 

“Yes,” says Cassian.

 

“No,” says Jyn, at the exact same time.

 

“You didn’t tell me you were assigned to this mission,” Cassian says, because they’re going to have this conversation whether she decides to climb down and talk to him face to face like a normal person or not.

 

“I wasn’t assigned. I volunteered. Bodhi needed backup.”

 

Bodhi pales. “Uh, that’s not—”

 

“Bodhi wasn’t supposed to leave for another three days,” says Cassian.

 

“He pushed up the date.”

 

“Um,” Bodhi attempts to interject, wide-eyed, “no, you see—”

 

“You have to tell me things like this, Jyn!” Cassian continues, desperate. “You were just going to leave for, for…”

 

“A week,” she supplies.

 

“For a week and not even mention it?”

 

“I have to tell you everything I do, now?” she snarls.

 

“Yes!” Cassian shouts. “I mean...I mean no, of course not. But still, you can’t just run away from me!”

 

“I’m not!”

 

“You _are_!” he insists, shaking the guardrail; the fear is boiling hot in his veins, clouding his vision. “You _are_ , Jyn, I…” He can’t have this conversation here, in a decidedly not-empty air hangar, screaming up at her like she’s a child stuck up in a tree. He swallows, trying to recollect himself.

 

“Jyn, we need to talk about this, okay?”

 

She’s glaring just to the left of him, like she can’t quite look at him straight on.

 

“I don’t have time,” she says, firm. “We’re scheduled to leave soon.”

 

She’s lying—she has the time, they both know it. What she’s really saying is, _I don’t have the strength_ , and what a frightening thing that is, when she might be the strongest person he knows. He’s been trying not to put this burden on her. He’s been trying to be something safe she can come home to.

 

He shuts his eyes, trying to recalibrate.

 

“Fine.” There’s no point trying to hash it out here. “But when you come home, we’re going to talk about this.”

 

He’s expecting more of a fight, but all she does is nod.

 

“Okay,” she says. “When I come home—” and he doesn’t miss that word, the way her voice crackles a little around it “—we’ll talk.”

 

“Okay.” His heart is pounding. “Okay. Be safe.”

 

She nods again.

 

“You too, Bodhi,” Cassian adds, causing Bodhi—who had been in the process of slinking backwards to hide behind the ship—to jump.

 

“We will!” he half-squeaks.

 

On Cassian’s way out the hangar, someone claps him on the shoulder. When he turns, he sees the infuriatingly cheerful face of Han Solo.

 

“For what it’s worth, Captain,” Han says, smirking, “I didn’t think you two were married, before.

 

“Okay,” says Cassian, through clenched teeth.

 

"I do now, though!"

 

Cassian thinks, not for the first time, that he’d really enjoy punching Han square in the jaw.

 

* * *

  

The next week drags on like an arduous trudge through sand, and Cassian feels himself grow more irritable with each passing day. His bed is wide and empty, his room too quiet, and he can’t escape the remnants of Jyn scattered all throughout his life, little reminders that she would be here, now, if he had just…

 

What, kept kissing her? It’s not that simple.

 

Because of course, of course he had wanted to keep kissing her. But there’s so much more he wants with her than some stolen moment laughed off as inevitable. They don’t seem inevitable at all, not to him, not when he feels like he’s always be on the brink of losing her.

 

(He really can’t stand the thought of losing her.)

 

He sleeps so little those first few nights that he becomes an embarrassment to himself, running on fumes. He stumbles through meetings, letting things slide, a ghost of his former, competent self.

 

By the end of the week, he doesn’t even have the mental clarity to put it together when in the middle of the night, someone slides into his bed.

 

He slips his arm around her waist without a thought, curving forward eagerly in the haze of half-sleep. He hears the soft sound of her sigh like he’s listening through water—far away, ethereal—and he smiles into the warmth of her shoulder.

 

Then she shifts, and winces—sharp, pained—and suddenly Cassian is very much awake.

 

“Jyn?”

 

He props himself on his elbow and clutches at her arm, pushing her to her back so that she’s facing him. She hisses at the movement, and ice shoots down his spine.

 

“Jyn, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

 

He can just make out her features in the low light, the way her eyes immediately widen.

 

“Yes,” she says, quickly bringing her hand up to cup his cheek. “Yes, I’m fine.”

 

The relief is visceral. He slumps a bit, sinks into her palm.

 

“What happened?” he asks.

 

“Stormtroopers,” she says, like it’s not that big a deal.

 

“It was supposed to be a cargo mission, routine. Way outside of Imperial territory.”

 

“Well, it started that way.”

 

He can’t quite suppress a growl.

 

“Relax, we weren’t followed. We even made it back early.”

 

“That’s not what I—” He huffs. “You’re hurt?”

 

She lets her hand fall from his face, scrunching her mouth in annoyance. “Not badly. I got thrown into a guardrail. I think it’s going to bruise, but…”

 

She glances down at her stomach, and his eyes follow. Without even thinking he reaches over, slips his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, and inches the fabric up her torso. Even in the darkness he can see it, the angry purple splotch snaking across her skin. He traces its edges until his hand brushes against the bottom of her ribs.

 

When she inhales, a little shaky, he feels her stomach expand against his fingertips.

 

“Jyn,” he says, throat tight. “About before…”

 

She turns her head to the side, away from him. But otherwise, she doesn’t move; she lies still, his hand on her bare skin, and Cassian knows this is the moment, wishes his heart would slow down.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. She stiffens, and he steels his hand against her, a plea to stay put. “Wait, just hear me out. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that...I needed to know that it was for the right reasons.”

 

She’s silent. She’s going to make him work for this. He swallows.

 

“Jyn,” he says, carefully. “Let people say what they want. That doesn’t matter to me. You matter to me. What do you want?”

 

“I thought that was obvious,” Jyn says, very quiet. “I’m the one who kissed you. What do you want?”

 

Cassian can barely hear over the sound of his heart drumming in his ears.

 

“I want you to stay,” he says.

 

He thinks he sees her smile at that.

 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

 

The relief spools so hot and fast in his gut, he's almost breathless from it. He bows his head, trying to center himself, to find something on which to anchor his now soaring heart.

 

When she speaks again, her voice is soft, hesitant.

 

“Is there anything else you want?” she whispers.

 

Instead of answering, Cassian bends down and presses his lips to the edge of her bruise, to the soft skin just above her hipbone.

 

She inhales, sharp, and he feels fire in his veins.

 

Slowly, with great care, he inches up her side, soft kiss after soft kiss until he reaches the edge of her shirt. He lingers there for a moment, closes his teeth ever so gently against her rib, feels the drum of her heart beneath him.

 

He shifts up, opening his mouth against the base of her neck. He traces the line of her throat, tastes the sweet skin behind her jawbone.

 

“Jyn,” he whispers. “There is so, so much that I want.”

 

She turns her head, her nose bumping against his, and then she is kissing him—wet and desperate, like she’s trying to drown herself in it. Her teeth scrape his lip and her arms wrap around his neck and when he curls his hand into her hair, she gasps into his mouth. He never wants to stop doing this, never.

 

When he shifts forward, tugging her more firmly beneath him, she grimaces. He pulls back immediately, and she snarls at him for it.

 

“Come back,” she orders, craning her neck up after his.

 

“Your bruise,” he protests. “I don’t want to—”

 

She pushes at his shoulders and when he rolls away from her, she follows. She swings her leg over his so that she’s straddling him, hunched over his chest with her hands bracketing his head.

 

“Better?” he asks, breathless.

 

She starts to lean down, winces again. “Almost. Can you—”

 

He sits up before she can finish the question, tugging her more firmly into his lap. They’re eye-to-eye, now, and Cassian wishes it weren’t so dark, wishes he could see the entirety of her smile.

 

“How’s this?” he asks, resting his forehead against hers.

 

“This is good,” she murmurs against his lips. “This is good.”

 

* * *

  

The next morning, Cassian wakes to a shadow on his pillow, Jyn in his arms, and K2 looming above them both.

 

“K?” he croaks, blinking away the sleep.

 

“Good morning,” K2 says, flat. “We are needed in the control room for a meeting.”

 

“Ah,” says Cassian. Jyn shifts against him, burying her nose into his shoulder. What timing. “Thanks, K. I’ll be right there.”

 

K2 nods. He doesn’t move. Cassian glances up at him.

 

“Could you wait outside?” he asks.

 

“Why?”

 

“We’re...not dressed.”

 

K2’s head swivels from Cassian, to Jyn—who, thankfully is still wrapped up in his sheets—and back to Cassian.

 

“ _Why?_ ” K2 asks again, with clear disdain.

 

“Don’t worry about it, K.”

 

“It is within my right to worry,” K2 grouses. “It is eleven degrees below zero outside the base. The human body is vulnerable to cold, so you should sleep wearing layers.”

 

“Err,” Cassian says, flushing; beneath the sheets, Jyn’s tracing a small circle across his stomach.

 

“If he doesn’t leave soon,” Jyn whispers calmly into his shoulder, “I will shoot him in the face.”

 

“Thanks, K,” Cassian manages, holding back laughter. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Apparently satisfied with this, K2 leaves. When the door slides shut behind him, Jyn lifts her head, rests her chin against his shoulder. Her bangs are messy in the gray morning haze, her eyes bright. He feels a bit dazed just looking at her.

 

“Don’t pay attention to K2,” Cassian says, anticipating her complaint. “He tries.”

 

“He wants us to sleep with clothes on."

 

Cassian’s lip curls into a smile. “Like I said, don’t pay attention to K2.”

 

She grins, and it’s quite possibly the best thing he’s ever seen. She leans forward, presses her lips to his chest.

 

“I never do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Featuring less K2 snark than normal, but like...these kids really needed to start sorting their shit out.
> 
> [leralynne](http://leralynne.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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